


At the Death of the Signless

by PaintedOak



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedOak/pseuds/PaintedOak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what the title implies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Death of the Signless

First there was pain. Intense, burning pain. My wrists were engulfed in the fires of hell, my skin shot through with the heat of Alternia’s sun. 

But what was worse, was seeing my dear friends watching me suffer. To see the fear and sorrow in their eyes was unbearable. I couldn’t bear to watch them, and I hung my head, favoring to only listen to their cries. And behind them, the angry shouts of the crowd. Shouts of, “Cull him!” “Make him suffer!” “He shall pay for turning the lowblood’s ear!” I listened to them as I looked to the ground. Then, suddenly, there was silence.

Silence and then a scream.

“NO!”

With that piercing sound, I could hear the hope in my Disciple cracking. I could hear Dolorosa, the woman who had raised me since birth, sobbing bitterly. Psiioniic, who had been my friend and comrade for so long, began to curse vehemently at the Executioner as he stepped forward. 

“Any last words, mutant?”

I looked up then at my friends, knowing my end was coming-and theirs. Before I was chained, I was told what was to happen to each of them. Dolorosa, sweet caring Dolorosa, who was to become a slave to a violet-bloods’ ship. Psiioniic, who was gifted beyond comprehension, was to get the esteemed honor of becoming Her Imperious Condescension’s Helmsman. And Disciple, my love, my one and only, who was to be executed right after I died. “One arrow for you, one for your pretty matesprit.”

It broke my heart to see my once proud friends so shattered. I locked gazes with each of them in turn, giving them one last smile. 

“I love you. Don’t forget that.”

With that, I heard the stretching of the bow, and I turned my face away from them. I didn’t want them to see my face when I died. Squeezing my eyes shut, I waited for the final blow.

The crowd began to chant-a low growl at first, slowly growing into something more, until it resolved itself into words: “Cull. Cull. Cull. Cull.” With each beat of the word, the sobs of my friends grew louder and more racked. 

And then, the arrow was loosed. 

Then, nothing.


End file.
